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Fresh air, that's how she could describe it. A constant abundance of fresh air. She had never particularly sailed this much in her life - or ever really, but the months at sea to get from Qarth to Astapor had been a strain. The new sensation of sailing for the Dothraki had worn at their spirit slightly, but still they soldiered on, learning how to work the boats and deal with the constant motion of the waves.


Rhaenar stood at the banister, her hair pulled back away from her face as her eyes gazed out over the ship. Her dragons were free, their size so much greater than what they were before and their wings desperately flapping through the wind. She smiled as Leirion soared above her, his white underside shining at her as his black almost absorbed the sunlight hitting his back. He squawked before joining his siblings, the three of them dancing in the air.


His eyes were sharp as he gazed at the air below him before diving down, submerging himself beneath the surface. She moved to the side, watching as he flew back out, a silver fish in his mouth. Rhaenar hovered at the side, watching as Leirion threw the fish up, flaming it before gobbling it down. She laughed, reaching out to him. Leirion turned, flying to her before landing on the edge, his face instantly falling into her hand.


His scales were still rather silky to the touch, only just gaining a thicker and rougher texture to them. "They're growing fast." Jorah noted, approaching his Khaleesi.



"Not fast enough." She muttered softly. "I can't wait that long. I need an army if we are to take Westeros, I can't rely solely on the dragons." Leirion turned, thrusting himself off the edge.



"We'll be in Astapor by nightfall. Some say the Unsullied are the greatest soldiers in the world." Rhaenar turned, facing him.



"The greatest slave-soldiers in the world. The distinction means a good deal to some people." Including herself. That wasn't a title she wanted to give herself, she wasn't a person who wanted to use slaves - she wanted to free them. "Are you sure that this is the right decision?" 



Jorah sighed. "Do those people have any better ideas about how to put you on the Iron Throne?" No was the answer. 10,000 Dothraki screamers weren't going to cut it, not when facing the armies of the Seven Kingdoms.



"It's too beautiful a day to argue." Dany called over, moving closer to the pair.

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